All Good Things
by overthemoon07
Summary: Collins centric. Written for speedrent. A songfic. Collins deals with the death of his friends, goes to Santa Fe, remembers Angel and talks with Maureen all before he goes. S'quite long and it's a oneshot. Well, not really. But it's done.


Challenge 121

Songfic (Song by Jackson Browne)

All Good Things

Disclaimer: Jonathan's. And "All Good Things" is Jackson Browne's.

_All good things got to come to an end  
The thrills have to fade  
Before they come 'round again  
The bills will be paid  
And the pleasure will mend  
All good things got to come to an end_

((October 31st, 1990))

She stood up slowly, brushing her hands together as he leaned forward and dropped his rose onto the other six. The way he looked at it, the pain in his eyes, the tears that stained his face, were too much for her and she turned away and began the trek up to the paved sidewalk. The others followed behind, Mimi reached up and grabbed onto her hand. She turned around and offered a thin smile before swiping her thumb across the young girl's cheek. The scruffy ex-rocker walked quickly past the girls, walking close enough to brush by the Latina but he walked out of his way to avoid her. Mimi bit her lip to fight back the tears in her eyes. How much more could she cry? Another body walked by her, this one thicker and in a way, almost more gentle. He reached out and touched her shoulder, but she pulled away, not meeting his eyes. Maureen glanced back over her shoulder, gently squeezing Mimi's hand as she searched for the lawyer. At that instant, Joanne looked up as well, making eye contact. Maureen quickly turned her head to face forward and she quickened her pace. Mimi turned to look back, seeing Collins still standing where they'd left him, drumsticks in hand. Her bottom lip quivered and she hurried to catch up with Maureen.

Mark scurried past Mimi, gently resting his hands on her shoulders as he hurried to catch the rocker. Mimi glared over at Roger as he leaned against the trunk of a tree, his back to the rest of them, pretending like they weren't there.

"It's true you sold your guitar and bought a car?" she asked, letting go of Maureen's hand.

"It's true," he said without turning around. "I'm leaving now for Santa Fe. It's true you're with this yuppie scum?"

Benny grabbed onto Mimi's shoulder. "You said you'd never speak to him again."

"Not now," she growled, shaking him off.

"Who said that you have any say in who she says things to all all?" Maureen spat at the landlord.

"Who said that you should stick your nose in other peoples-" Joanne asked the diva.

"Who said I was talking to you?" she shouted, turning towards Joanne. Mimi grabbed onto Maureen's hand again, squeezing it.

"He's in denial," she shouted.

"She's in denial!"

Mark stood back against the tree, near Roger, watching as the girls shouted at each other.

"All your words are nice Mimi, but loves not a three way street!" He made a triangle with his finger in the air, using Benny, Mimi and himself as points. "You'll never share real love until you love yourself. I should know."

Roger felt a hand hit his chest and shove him backwards as Collins stepped in between Mimi and Roger. "You all said you'd be cool today so please for my sake… I can't believe he's gone," he said, tears stinging at the back of his eyes.

Mimi's lip quivered again. She hated when other people cried. It made her cry, too. Maureen kept her back towards Joanne, eyes fixed on Mark. She couldn't look at Collins.

"I can't believe you're going," he said, his tone a bit harsh as he glanced at Roger. "I can't believe this family must die. Angel helped us believe in love. I can't believe you disagree. Can't believe this is goodbye."

Mimi stepped forward; wanting to collapse into Roger's arms, wanting him to hold her, to kiss her and tell her everything would be all right. But he backed up and ran. He ran out of the cemetery and Mark, who'd been staring back at Maureen, bolted after him. Collins reached out and held the Latina, letting her cry into his shoulder. Maureen turned back to face Joanne and saw her crying. Something switched on inside of her, maybe it was maternal instincts or maybe she just grew up, but she stepped forward and wiped gently at Joanne's face, taking her hands in hers and holding on tight.

"Come on guys, let's go get drunk," Collins murmured.

"I'll pay," Benny offered as they moved up the stairs.

"We'll let you," Collins chuckled sadly.

He stopped short inside the iron gate, telling the others he'd be there in a second. He glanced up at the sky, raising her drumsticks to his lips and then up towards the heavens. And with that, he slowly walked away to catch up with the others.

_God I wish I was home  
Laying 'round with my friends  
The call of the wild  
Caution thrown to the wind  
The fall of the child  
Where the longing begins  
All good things got to come to an end_

((February 1991))

Collins had stayed in New York City as long as he could. He'd come back for Christmas break and after Mimi's spell, he'd called up NYU, quit and stayed home through New Years and most of January. It wasn't until Groundhog's Day that she started to get sick again. Didn't make it a week past Valentine's Day, her favorite holiday. And after that, Collins couldn't stay. He had to go. Had to leave, get out of that cold Bohemian hell. So without much warning and without saying much, Collins packed up the apartment, taking everything precious to him, everything of Angel's, bought a car with some money he'd taken from a recently rewired ATM, and drove out to New Mexico. It was warm and dry and so empty. Nothing like New York. And that was good. Exactly how he'd hoped it would be.

Within a month, the restaurant was up and running. Angel's, as he'd named it, was the most expensive place around and people came from all over to eat there, though Collins wasn't really sure why. The food wasn't horrible, but it was nothing like eating at the Life Café or any of the good places back in New York. It was mediocre as Collins had never been much of a cook. And the guys he hired weren't great either. But people kept coming back so he must have been doing something right.

Collins found himself surrounded by people all of the time. In fact, he was rarely alone, even at home. People were always stopping by to hang out and his couch was rarely empty at night. Some of the guys from work would stop by and get so drunk they couldn't drive home or someone would have a fight with his boyfriend or girlfriend and need a place to crash for the night. And whenever he did find a few precious moments to spend alone, there were so many things were running through his head, voices of his friends asking for money, for favors. Occasionally he'd hear a familiar voice from New York, a moody rocker whining about his song not coming out right, the nerdy filmmaker, 'close up on Collins', his favorite drama queen babbling on about her latest protest and of course, his Angel. He saw her more often than heard her, but she was there just the same. Even when Tom Collins was alone, he was never really alone.

So what was this emptiness he felt inside? Why, even though people constantly surrounded him, did he feel so detached and alone? There was something missing, something not quite right. And though he'd run from New York and moved out to Santa Fe, thinking he'd forget and move on, he hadn't fixed anything, but instead, made it worse. He missed his friends, his family. Angel never would have wanted him to do that to his friends. So that very day, June 29th, 1991, his twenty-ninth birthday, Tom Collins packed up his car and drove back to New York, back to his home.

_Like a river flows  
Rolling 'till it ends in the sea  
Our pleasure grows  
Rolling 'till it ends in you and me_

((January 24th, 1990, 11 p.m, Eastern Standard Time))

"Collins," he heard her call from the living room.

Poking his head out from their bedroom, he caught her eyes from where she was sitting on the couch. Jesus Christ, she was beautiful. She hadn't put any make-up on today. Been running low and neither of them had gotten paid lately, so she'd been saving it for special occasions and outings. Her black bobbed wig sat neatly on her head, the strands of hair swaying against her cheeks as she turned to look at him. "You called, love?" he asked.

"Yes, baby," she smiled, patting the couch cushion next to her. "Come sit with me."

"I'm… kind of in the middle of something, babe. Can it wait?"

Angel pouted slightly, not meaning to, but she had never been one to hide emotion that well. "Guess so."

He felt his heart break as she looked at him like that and it split completely in two when she looked away, curling herself into a ball and burying her face into her book. He dropped the stack of papers he'd been grading and walked over to her side, sitting on the edge of the couch. He gently reached over and tugged the book away from her hands, keeping his thumb in her spot as he closed the book.

"Hey," she said, eyes following the book. "I was reading that."

"You wanted me," he said. "Book can wait."

Angel glared at him playfully. "No, you're busy. I can wait."

"Baby, only thing I'm busy with right now is you," he grinned, pushing her knees down so he could kiss her.

"Oh, you think so?" she asked, staring into his eyes.

"I know so," he said, pressing his lips up against hers again.

"Well," she said, still holding his stare as she reached up and grabbed the book from his hands. "Think again."

Collins raised his eyebrows. "All right, Miss Smarty Pants," he said, standing. "Fine."

Angel pouted as she watched him walk away, eyes locked onto his ass. "Professor, I'd get back here if I were you."

Collins stopped in his tracks and slowly craned his neck so he could see her. "Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do if I don't?"

"Nothing," she smiled. "Absolutely nothing."

Collins's jaw dropped. "Not fair."

She dropped her legs over the side of the couch and stood, brushing her skirt off and sauntering slowly over to Collins. She kissed him hard, lips smashing together, tongues colliding as her hands slipped around and grabbed onto his ass. He held her close, hands cupping her face, running down her back and across her ass where he grabbed at her skirt, bunching the fabric in his fist.

"Come on," she grinned, pushing him backwards.

"Where we goin?" he asked as she pushed him towards their bedroom.

"I'm about to teach you a thing or two, professor."

((June 1992))

It was days like those he would miss later. Days where it was just them, the two of them, with nothing else to do but be together. Simple really… but they were his favorites.

_Now as the dark gathers into the sky  
And legions of might go thundering by  
Regions of light grow dim and then die  
And we with our wings  
Wait for morning to fly_

((September 1992))

Just months later, Collins found himself standing in an all too familiar garden where he'd been two too many times before. This one was placed next to the other two and Collins set his rose down once again but his was not last this time. He stepped back, putting an arm around Maureen and holding her close while the grieving filmmaker struggled to step forward. His vision was so blurry from the tears that streamed down his face, he could barely make out where the stone and grass met. Mark collapsed on his knees in front of the stone, sobbing uncontrollably. Big heavy moans were pushed from his small body and Collins and Maureen quickly rushed to his side. Maureen managed to pull his head into her lap and she brushed off the dirt and tears with her fingers, gently caressing his face while Collins rubbed his back. Benny knelt beside the trio, offering Maureen a tissue, which she took and wiped the corners of Mark's eyes.

Joanne had been called out of town for a big case in Chicago and for once, Maureen was thankful to see her go. Not that she thought Joanne would want to miss this or ever purposely plan to be out of town for something like this, but she and Maureen hadn't been getting along lately. Every night was a shouting match and Joanne usually ended up sleeping on the couch and that was if Maureen didn't storm off to Collins's for the night. It was a huge relief to not have to deal with that at this moment.

Mark managed to sit up with the help of the anarchists and he, too, dropped his rose on the gravestone. Collins pulled the man to his feet and Maureen took him in her arms, holding him close. He bunched her hair in his fingers, holding onto her tightly, sniffling and sobbing against her shoulder. Benny again paid for the funeral as he had for the other two and would for the next one.

"Marky," Maureen cooed in his ear. "My poor Marky."

"I… I loved him," Mark said, his voice muffled in her jacket. "I loved him and he didn't know."

"Shh, baby, it's okay," she said, her hand cradling his head. "I think he knew."

"Come on, man," Benny said, walking over and prying Mark off of Maureen. "Let's get you home, okay?"

Mark nodded and allowed himself to be taken away. Collins nodded over his shoulder at Benny, signaling that he and Maureen would follow later. Collins reached a hand out and grabbed onto Maureen, pulling her over to him so he could hold her. He wiped at her tears and kissed her forehead.

"What's up, pretty girl?" Collins asked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began walking.

She leaned against him, arms around his waist as they left the cemetery. "Collins, are you scared?"

He stopped walking just outside the gate and turned to look at her. "No, not really."

"No?" she asked. "Why not?"

"Cause I know she'll be there when I go," he sighed, a slight smile dancing on his lips. "I'm going to fly away from here. One bright clear morning, I'll just fly away. And she'll be there waiting for me. I've kept her waiting a long time. I don't want to make her wait more than she has to by being scared, ya know?"

Maureen nodded, trying to understand. She didn't want him to go. How could he be so sure about leaving her? Why wasn't he afraid to leave her? But his Angel was there. And she smiled, knowing how Angel felt for Collins and how if it were her, she wouldn't want to wait either.

_Here where the angels  
Have appeared and are gone  
Your face like an ember  
Glows in the dawn  
But I want you to remember  
All wild deeds live on  
All good times, all good friends_

((April 1993))

Maureen tiptoed quietly into the white room, a strong sterile smell stinging at her nostrils. The room was silent except for the occasional beep of machines and the quiet wheeze coming from the sleeping body on the bed. He was so peaceful lying there asleep. She didn't want to wake him as he had so much trouble sleeping lately. Maureen peeled off her jacket and set down the books on the table beside his bed along with the bottle of Stoli she'd managed to sneak in. She kept that tucked away in her jacket. Sitting down in the visitor chair, which she had claimed to be hers, her bare thighs stuck to the plastic seat covering. It was spring and it was hot. She watched him sleep soundly, his lips parted and dry, huge dark circles under his eyes and he looked so thin and so weak, something she never thought she'd see Tom Collins be.

He coughed suddenly, eyes opening and body shaking as he hacked. She hurried to his side and rubbed his back while he choked. He finally laid his head back onto the pillow and smiled up at her.

"Hey Mo," he whispered.

"Hi baby," she smiled, grabbing the plastic cup on his bed table. She filled it with ice and water and helped him drink it.

"Thanks," he said, water dribbling down his chin.

She wiped it with her thumb and sat on the edge of the bed. "Welcome. I brought you some books. New ones. And some Stoli."

Collins grinned. "Thanks, babe."

"How are you?"

He smiled. "Not so good."

She didn't say anything back. What could she say? Please don't die yet. I need you to be with me. That was unfair.

"Listen, Mo," he said, adjusting himself higher up on the pillow. "I want you to know exactly how I feel before I go, okay?"

She shook her head. "Collins."

"Mo, you're my best friend, okay? Always have been, always will be. And I've been doing a lot of thinking lately… what else can I do, right? And the thing is, I love you. You're my girl, my Mo. And even when I'm gone…" he paused and smiled up at her. "People die but the wild deeds live on. I won't soon be forgotten, I know that. Take care of Mark, okay? And be nice to Benny."

She wiped at the tears on her cheeks and nodded, smiling. "I'll try."

"I know you will," he smiled.

_All good things got to come to an end  
The thrills have to fade  
Before they come 'round again  
The bills will be paid  
And the pleasure will mend  
All good things got to come to an end_

((June 1993))

Another visit to the garden. One less rose and hers was last this time. Maureen was beginning to hate roses.

_All good times, all good friends  
All good things got to come to an end_


End file.
